


In Dreams

by felassann



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age Inquisition - Fandom
Genre: Angst, F/M, Post-Trespasser, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-11
Updated: 2015-11-11
Packaged: 2018-05-01 04:48:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5192912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/felassann/pseuds/felassann
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"But in dreams, I can hear your name. And in dreams, we will meet again." -Howard Shore. Solavellan. Angst. Post-Trespasser.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Dreams

This was her forest.

Before the Anchor, before Corypheus, she had only ever dreamed of this place but a few times. It was like a fond memory, one that brought comfort in hardship, a retreat of the mind and soul. When she was marked with the power to change the world she found herself able to walk here freely, her focus strong and steady. Even with the Anchor gone, visiting was an easy feat.

None, save one other, knew of this haven.

Once, the woodland was unchanging, everlasting, living beneath the rays of a warm sun that all but illuminated the vivid greens of grass and leaf, flowers that danced with the wind and trees standing tall and proud. Night came often, now. Stars glittered on the water and fireflies mingled with the halla lounging lazily along the ravine. Here was a place of peace, even if the soul who created it could find none.

Yavaena fell back her hood and sat on a thick log beside the water, reveling in the feeling of cool dew beneath her feet. She watched the fireflies dance over the water for a time, silent, hand grasping at the still recovering stump--even in her dreams, she couldn’t escape the pain. At first she thought it strange that she was unable to will even a false arm, but perhaps the pain was too deep, perhaps without the Anchor she was unable to accomplish things here as well as she could before. It didn’t matter now.

The past month had been difficult, far too difficult. When the Inquisition disbanded, she knew the time would soon come when everyone would part for a time. Their work was by no means finished and their organization was considerably smaller, more secure. Indeed, even as the new threat looming over their world was at the forefront of everyone’s minds, they had their own lives to live, and she needed time to recover. It had been but four months since the Exalted Council and her arm was still healing, she was still healing. She found comfort in her friends, whether they were at her side or in their letters, or with the sending crystal Dorian had gifted her before leaving for Tevinter. She wasn’t alone. She knew that. And yet…

All that she fought for, everything she sacrificed...her heart now bore a scar that would not heal, that she knew never would. At least, not until she set things right. And she would.

A sudden presence pulled her attention across the water.

And there sat a wolf, still as a statue, its pale blue eyes glowing beyond the ravine.

So close, but never close enough.

At first she wasn’t certain it was him; she would wake from these dreams feeling as if she’d been close to something her heart desired more than anything else. But the more he frequented her haven, the more confident she became that this wolf was, in fact, him. There was something familiar about the wolf, a sadness she had come to know well. When she reached for him he vanished into nothing, into a swirl of dust...it was agonizing, like trying desperately to grasp at water. This occurred many times over, reaching out only for him to leave. Her heart hurt. It hurt, but still, she wanted to feel him, to smell him-- _wood, books, warmth, comfort_ \--to have him in her arms again.

She discovered that he would remain if she was still, if she made no move toward him. For a long time they spent nights merely watching one another. Silence built on silence; she dared not speak, fearing his abandon, but eventually the silence became too overwhelming.

She spoke just two broken words:

“Ma vhenan.”

He tensed and she mirrored the gesture, counting on him fading away once again. Yet, his gaze had simply relented into something sad and he turned to stare into the water. He made no move toward her, but it was a reaction...it was something.

She wasn’t sure how much more she could take, especially now. Tonight, instead of remaining silent, she would speak.

“Ma vhenan,” she said softly. His gaze remained steady, though his ears did twitch. “There’s...so much I want to say. So many questions I wish you could--you would answer.” She released her arm and instead tugged at the clip of her cloak. “Do you remember when you first visited my dreams?”

It was a pleasant time, a pleasant memory, one she thought of often. They had walked the ravine hand in hand as he spoke of his journeys through the Fade, of the marvels he had seen, about how beautiful this haven was. She remembered leaning on his arm with her own wrapped about his waist while they lounged on the very log she sat on now. Laughter. Comfort. Peace. There had been peace.

The wolf did not answer, but there was something in his eyes--emotion. Pain?

After a time she swallowed, rubbing at her stump again. “Dagna is working on a prosthetic, but the healers say my arm needs more time to recover before one can be fitted. I’ll have to keep waiting.”

Silence.

“It’s...difficult to use my magic, but I’m working on it,” she laughed--a sad sound. “I used to be so confident in my abilities, in myself. Now I feel...I don’t know.” Useless. So unlike the great leader she had become. Helpless.

Silence.

“I once prayed to the gods for guidance, but now that I know the truth...” With each word her composure broke, more and more, slow and then crumbling. “Everyone is leaving, everyone is leaving and I…”

A sob tore through her chest and past her lips, a sound so pitiful and pathetic she trembled.

“I miss you, emma lath. I miss you,” she cried into her hand. She cried. It had been the first time she had done so in front of someone since the Exalted Council.

Moments later, when she could finally see through her tears she lifted her gaze across the water. The wolf looked anxious, still sitting but a noise--a heavy breath--came from his snout. Yavaena cleared her throat and wiped the tears from her cheeks, more appeared to replace them and instead she stood. The wolf watched her intently, his breath still heavy, but he did not move.

He did not move as she stepped into the ravine.

He did not vanish when those steps brought her closer.

Or when she sank to her knees before him, burying her face in his fur, weeping as she held him. The wolf panted, his breaths uneven and heavy.

“Ar lath ma, Vhenan.”

\---

When he woke, tears stained his cheeks.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Ah, so this...is something I wrote around the time Trespasser was first released and it’s just kind of been sitting in my folder uselessly. So rather than throw it out, I thought I’d just go ahead and post. I wrote it when I was upset, as a way to “get the sadness out,” I suppose. I don't write angst often, but when I do I somehow make myself cry. Yay!


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